What We Don’t Have
by ink.and.petals
Summary: February, 1920, when Tom and Sybil believe they can’t afford to attend Matthew and Mary’s wedding.


_Hello! This idea has been rolling around in my head for a while now; I really hope you enjoy it! **This is set February, 1920, when, due to finance troubles, Tom and Sybil believe they cannot attend Matthew and Mary's wedding.** I have to admit, it does go a little off focus at some points, but it's all Tybil, so all good, right?_

_Let me know what you think!_

What We Don't Have

"What on earth...?"

"Hello, darling," Sybil greeted, as if she were not stood on a chair and rooting through the collection of jars atop the kitchen cupboards. Of course, this would not be an issue if she were not six months pregnant. "How was your day?"

"You shouldn't be up there,"

"I'm quite all right, or at least I will be all right when I find..."

Her failure to finish her sentence was enough of an explanation to Tom for what she was searching for.

"Love, you really shouldn't..."

"Ha!"

Her virtuous smile was one that he couldn't stop reflecting onto his lips as she showed off the biscuit tin as if it were a trophy.

Meanwhile, Tom had slipped off his shoes, thrown his jacket over the back of the chair and hurried to his wife's side, ready to help her down.

Once she was safely returned to ground level she immediately snatched back her trophy and delved into it's chocolatey contents.

With a chuckle Tom teased, "What happened to 'out of sight, out of mind'?"

She swatted him for his (really rather good) impersonation of an English accent. "It wasn't quite as effective as I'd hoped. Golly, these cravings are going to be the end of me! You can laugh, but I doubt you'd be able to cope with the intensity of it either."

"How was your shift?"

"Busy. I went straight to sleep when I came home," she admitted with a sheepish tweak of the lips.

Tom took a seat at the table after filling the kettle. "Are you sure working's not too much for you?"

She allowed an exhausted sigh to escape from her lips as she collapsed onto the chair opposite his, her swollen belly pushed against the table's edge. "I am rather tired, but I only have a few more weeks until I leave for the baby, and it would be nice to have a little extra money to fall back on."

"We'll mange."

"We could buy the baby a few more blankets, or another toy. Or we could treat ourselves, or just keep it saved up so if something happens we'll have enough money saved for two months instead of the one we currently have."

Seeing her mind was made up, he caved.

Her voice was more tender as she explained, "Mary wrote. They've set a date for the wedding. I told her we can't afford it, but - "

"You can go," he interrupted. "We can afford for one ticket there and back."

"Tom, we've been over this. You're my husband; I'm not going without you."

"Even if we could afford for both of us to go, I don't think I should yet. It's too soon."

"It's almost been a year; surely that's long enough. Either both of us go or neither of us do, and neither is our only option. I'm not sure I'd want to travel that far anyway, in my condition. It is an awfully long journey, and it will be even harder in a few months time."

Tom sighed, evidently unsatisfied. "I could ask for overtime."

"Oh darling, you work hard enough as it is. I know nursing's practically over for me until after the baby, but that doesn't mean you need to work more to cover for me. We've been saving for months; we have enough money. And as selfish as it is, I can't say I'd be jumping with joy if you decided to work Saturdays as well, considering you have long days through the entire week. Please don't do anymore hours. I'd rather go a week without biscuits than see you less."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely."

Tom broke the short, thoughtful silence when he asked, "Are you afraid of going alone?"

Sybil couldn't hide her surprise to her husband's question. "Not afraid, but... well, perhaps I am a little nervous of returning alone. Does that sound frightfully foolish?"

"No,"

It was left to their imagination as to what would have been said next, for the kettle declared it was time for tea.

"Speaking of my work after the baby..."

Tom replied from beside the kettle, "I thought we were going to decide what to do regarding that at a later date."

"I know, but..."

His eyebrow snaked up as he handed Sybil her beverage. "But?"

Whilst she was distracted, he quickly dipped his fingers into the tin that was centred between them.

In mock offence she cried, "How dare you steal my biscuits?"

"I've only had one!"

With a disapproving glare she continued, "The head nurse asked to speak to me today."

"Was she civil for once?"

"You know, it was the most extraordinary thing. She apologised to me, for her 'unprofessional and childish' behaviour - "

"The head nurse apologised to you?!" Tom practically yelled.

It was no secret the hospital's head nurse and Sybil had found working together an unwanted challenge, which had resulted with unkindness on Nurse Carr's part, but Sybil had never let this stop her. After all, she had the support she needed in fellow nurses and doctors, not to mention Tom and his family.

With a wide smile Sybil continued, "She explained her family had suffered losses during the Easter Rising, and although it wasn't my fault, she'd taken it out on me. I told her I'd lost friends during the war, and that was why I became a Nurse, but I could never imagine loosing my husband as she did."

Tom's smile was small but tender as he took her hand from across the table. "Go on,"

"I told her not to worry and that I appreciated her apology. And then she said if I wished to return to work beneath her after the baby, then I was most welcome."

"Nurse Carr offered you a job?!"

"She offered to hold my job until I returned. Of course I jumped at the chance, and unless anything changes concerning us or the baby, I can return to nursing in January!"

Her smile was so thrilled he swore he could feel his heart buzzing. "That's brilliant news, love!"

"The baby will be old enough to stay with Aidan and Moira by then and should be mostly on solid foods, but my shifts won't be too long to begin with so I'm sure I'll be able to feed the baby around them if necessary. If all goes to plan the timing should be perfect! Is it all right with you?"

"Of course it is. You know I'd never stop you working."

She began to stand, and with lifted eyebrows and at her beckon he followed her to the settee.

"What was the point of that?" he asked with a chuckle as they crashed against the cushions.

She smiled cheekily and leaned into him, laying her head on his chest and with her hand cradled his arm that he had wrapped around her.

"This," she answered, sinking into his embrace. After a few beats of silence she said, "What do you think it will be like?"

"What?"

"The wedding."

"Grand," he said, and she could feel his chest jolt as he chuckled. "It is Lady Mary, after all."

"I wish you wouldn't call her that."

"Call her what?"

"_Lady_ Mary. She's your sister-in-law now; you can call her Mary."

"Old habits die hard, I suppose."

"I think they'll be flowers," she dreamed. "Roses and Violets and Lilies."

"It'll take weeks for the servants to organise."

She failed to stop a giggle as she teased, "Is that all you ever think about? The work?"

"You have no idea how easy it is to picture Mr. Carson in a state, Mrs. Hughes trying to organise everything _as well as_ calm him down, and Mrs. Patmore barking orders at poor Daisy."

She smiled as she felt his fingers tickle the bottom of her belly as she took a sip of her tea. A little milk and very sweet; just how she liked it.

"I wonder what sort of dress Mary will wear,"

"She'll most likely go to Paris or somewhere posh to find one."

"Oh hush, it is her wedding day. She's allowed to spend a bit on herself." Sybil protested although she failed to hide a grin.

"You say it like she never does. I'm glad they're getting married," he added after a 'you're-heading-for-dangerous-waters' scowl from his wife. "I've always thought they'd be right for one another."

"I still can't understand why Mary turned him down when he first proposed."

"No one knew if Matthew would inherit the estate because of your mother's pregnancy."

"I know, but... I still can't help feeling that, left to her own devices, she would have accepted him. Perhaps, if the baby had survived..." Tom squeezed her shoulder when she faltered, even though her hesitation was only for a second. "If the baby had survived then I suppose she might have broken it off when we knew it was a boy, but to outright refuse the potential heir to Downton who she clearly had feelings for... I don't think Mary would do that."

"You mean someone changed her mind?"

"I think she took the wrong advice, that's all."

She smiled at the feel of his lips in her hair, his soft lips gently leaving their mark on her skin.

After a short while, their conversation died away with the exhaustion of the day. Sybil was still, and suspecting she was asleep Tom took some time to reflect.

Sometimes he wished things were different. That he were a Duke or an Earl, and Sybil's family were happy she had married him. That he had more money than he could possibly spend. If that were the case, he and his beautiful wife could travel to all those places they'd talked of, embark on all the adventures they'd dreamed of, not having to worry about where next month's food was coming from. But, he also knew, neither he nor Sybil would want things different. Both were happy in their small flat in Dublin, surrounded by Tom's family, who, to everyone's amazement, had become very close to Sybil. They had close friends here too, friends they would not have if they were rich beyond belief. They both loved their work, and that too would not be possible.

This was the way Tom's thoughts often spiralled when it came to money. Although occasionally he felt it would be nice to be secure in heritage, Tom and Sybil had built a beautiful life together, one which was challenging but immensely rewarding.

In truth, Sybil was not asleep. She was lost in the memories of her childhood and the discussions she and her sisters had previously had concerning their wedding days. Well, it wasn't really Sybil and her sisters, but more a young Sybil listening to the dreams her elder sisters harboured. She herself would not dream of this event until she was much older, and even then it was not so much the event she dreamed of but to whom she was being wedded to.

_"I will marry the richest Duke in England!"_

_"Not with that face, you won't."_

_"Mary!" Sybil intervened. "That's so unkind!"_

_Mary sighed from what seemed to be exasperation, repeatedly running her hands through her doll's wool hair, a toy which she repeatedly insisted she was too old for. Although, sometimes, she did enjoy plaiting the rather oddly shaped girl's hair. "Yet it's true. At least Patrick will be getting the more handsome sister."_

_That sent Edith seething with rage. Patrick was a tender subject for her, which of course meant Mary took great pleasure from rubbing Edith's nose in their engagement. It was not officially announced; after all, Mary was just twelve and Patrick only fifteen, so their arrangement would not be publicly announced until Mary's twenty-first birthday. But among the family it was confirmed._

_"I don't know why you're acting so pleased when you don't even like him." Edith protested, her face towards the window._

_"The wedding will be in the summer, I should think," Mary declared, although it could not possibly be known this far in advance. "The Archduke shall wed us. I'll wear the most fashionable dress London can offer, white, of course; and I'll have blooming flowers covering the church pews, walls and pillars. It will be quite marvellous."_

_Sybil piped up, "You can't know that yet, can you? Perhaps the Archduke will be indisposed, or the flowers won't match the colour themes."_

_"Oh darling, you don't really think Papa will settle for anyone other than the Archduke,"_

_"What if he's busy?"_

_"Perhaps he has more important things to do..." Edith fired._

_Mary ignored Edith and continued, "We'll arrange a date which works for us all."_

_Sybil turned to her second sister. "Would you like flowers at your wedding, Edith?"_

_"A wedding with no flowers is as good as a corset with no bones," she said with a rather irritated 'what-sort-of-question-is-that?' tone that caused Sybil's brow to furrow. Edith continued, "No elegance nor beauty without them."_

_"For some..."_

Tom brought her back to the present. "I'm sorry," he whispered, tenderly running his hand along her forearm.

She shifted slightly, burrowing further into him. "Don't ever apologise to me for what we don't have. We have love, and that's all that matters in the end."


End file.
